here is a photo

Here is a photo of one of the rose bushes outside. Each day it gets more lovely. Our lawns, however, do not get more lovely each day. The landlord is meant to mow them..

My mini-garden. I bought the two top plants yesterday. I think I have caught a gardening bug, perhaps all the spring air? Anyway, we had quarter of a bag of potting mix left after the herb planting, so I bought two plants (99c each) and potted them. Notice the herb plant is sitting on one of my old plates - I have a surplus so this is a good way to utilise them!

Here is a photo of the airport from our balcony. I was taking the picture of Lyall Bay actually, but I liked the way the plane looked, slinking along the runway.

Here is a photo taken a few seconds later from our bedroom window. You can see the Kilbirnie bus depot, and the Orongorongos (J will correct me if I'm wrong), as well as the plane importantly on its way somewhere. The morning view from this window is really lovely. Jeremy stands there peeking through the curtains each morning to try and ascertain the weather for the day, with the added bonus of looking at the hazy hills in the distance. I like it how he likes hills.

Here is a photo from last night when Jeremy and I had our first sparklers of the year. This photo is of Jeremy concentrating hard on writing his name. Why does everyone do that? I guess it is just what you do. It was raining at the time, but we were safe and dry under the front veranda. I had grand visions of standing on the balcony to wave sparklers at the planes, but no luck. Maybe tonight instead?

I've been rather snap-happy lately, perhaps because I'm procrastinating in the extreme - not long until the final exam!

This weekend, Jeremy and I used one of our wedding presents (a $50 Palmers voucher) to set up our own mini-garden, in the form of a herb pot. Here is our journey:

basil (sweet), coriander (cilantro), mint, rosemary, flat-leaf parsley

There was soil everywhere - not even Jeremy's socks were spared!

The finished product - yum! The herbs smell great. We also got a nice plant which is sitting outside to brighten up the concrete steps. The white rose bushes in the garden have started flowering also, they are so fragrant. I'd spend more time outside if it wasn't absolutely pouring with rain, and severe gale force winds right now...

photos and things

This is probably about the last thing I should be doing right now, because I have an exam on Saturday afternoon. The weather outside is very lovely, and about 17 degrees, which is quite warm. In fact, I have my new summer dress on, with a short-sleeved cardigan. Summer, indeed. I have been working hard all morning, except for when I went to the post shop and did some chores, although I guess that counts as working in a different way.

(I took this photo from by our house a few weeks ago, but it pretty much looks like this today too, although the sea is quite milky actually)

I spent half an hour this morning trying to find a doctor who would make an appointment for Jeremy. I rung a surgery in Hataitai, who said they only take patients who live in Hataitai, and the People's Centre aren't taking new clients. Eventually, I got him an appointment on Monday morning at Courtenay Medical, which is right next to his work, so it's all sorted in the end. But sheesh - it's like you are some sort of medical pariah if you haven't lived here all your life and/or have used Student Health in the past. I think it may be because of the new PHO system, which means you have to specifically enrol with a particular doctor.

Our trip to Auckland was pretty great, and some exciting things happened. And also some not-exciting but still nice things, like eating biscuits and reading lots of newspapers and watching silly movies on television. We did some exciting shopping too, about which I'll write when things are more definite. Jeremy and my brother went to a golf-driving range, while my sister and mother and I went shopping, and I bought the aforementioned summer dress. It is probably my most favourite piece of clothing right now. You know how you just have some clothes that make you feel good, and look good (simultaneously holding everything in and flattening the bits that need to be flattened, and flattering the bits which may possibly be worth flattering) - well, this new dress is it. And talking of new, I won a free bra last week! I somewhere saw an ad for the bendon website, and if you signed up to their mailing list, you would go into a draw for one of one thousand of their new "invisible" bras. And I won one, and it is rose pink, and it is real, not invisible! They cost about $50 in the shops, so there was no way I was going to buy it myself.

I had better go back to my books. But it is still nice and sunny, a good day for pootling around outside. Perhaps I will wander down the road and give Maranui my custom, in exchange for an excellent flat white.. Jeremy and I had considered holding our wedding reception there, but the staff were quite unhelpful and it was going to cost way more money than we wanted to spend, plus the reception would have had to be held after 5pm. And that didn't work because the wedding was in July so 5pm means almost dark, and that would have negated the whole reason for going there... as seen in this photo taken from their website (although it doesn't do the view justice - in real life there is a 180 degree view out to the bay):

Oh, here is one photo of Jeremy from our trip. We were in Ike's, this cool shop filled with so many weird things, and lots of fabric and buttons and ribbons (my favourite part). And lots of dressups and costumes...

I'll try to post more Auckland photos tomorrow..

no dinners

Well I have just printed out my last essay. Not counting the essays I will write in my exams, because they don’t really count as essays anyway, I figure I’ll never have to write an academic essay again. Although Jeremy is trying to convince me to think about doing a phD. I'll leave that one on the backburner for a bit.... Anyway, if I get into this publishing course next year, I doubt I’ll have to write anything longer than a few paragraphs; if I do, I’ll wipe the floor with everyone, after the four years of practise I have had!!

So I’m about to run upstairs and post it into the “other” assignment box – I am not 100-level, 200-level, or 300-level, so I assume I am “other” – then scoot back home. Freedom! (Ignoring exams..) I’m going to give myself today and tomorrow off from study, and no feeling guilty allowed! I’ve worked so hard this last fortnight. Plus, the house needs a really good clean; Jeremy and I did some chores yesterday which made a small difference, but there is still lots to be done. And I’d like to do some knitting, sewing (including some alterations and mending), write some overdue e-mails, and shop for my friend’s new-baby-present (I think I’ll get something from here: http://www.babylicious.co.nz; maybe some of the little red “bubba love” felt shoes, they are so gorgeous. And made in Wellington too, which I like).

Here's how I am going to avoid having to make dinner** this week:
Tonight we are going to Stephen and Sue's house for dinner. Last time they came to our place, we made Mexican food, and challenged them to have a themed dinner when we next went to theirs (we go every few weeks, maybe once a month). I recently lent Stephen the book "Life of Pi" (READ IT! It's great), so apparently tonight's food is themed around "pies" - should be very interesting! I figure it'll be pretty good whatever we are served; Stephen used to chef at Logan Brown and Icon (schmancy restaurant in Te Papa) and various other places, so the food is always so great, and we always get three courses! Yum.
Tuesday night, I think we are going to Jeremy's parents' house for dinner, but not confirmed yet.
Wednesday night, I'm going to a dinner party at my 'Romantic Literature' lecturer’s house – turns out that one of the people I chat with each week in my class lives one street away from me! So we are carpooling.
Then on Thursday night, J and I are going to Auckland, returning on Tuesday night – I’ve only seen my family once, for a few days, since the wedding, and J has only seen them for an afternoon, so we are both looking forward to spending some time with them. I promised my brother a double batch of my secret-recipe chocolate chip cookies, so I had better get some supplies to make them..


** Last night, J made an excellent red curry with fish, while I put the finishing touches on my essay. I did some stirring of the rice, but he can take the credit, which he deserves - it was great!

with cinnamon

I got to Uni at 8:45am this morning, after getting up at some godforsaken hour (well, only 7:30am - but it is a Saturday) to take Jeremy to an all-day music conference. I decided to buy myself a treat before doing work - I had half-inhaled a piece of peanut butter toast in the car on the way into town, and I was starving. I went up to Horseradish in the Kelburn shops, hoping they'd have a cinnamon scroll for me; alas, no such luck. But they had just pulled some apple and rhubarb muffins from the oven, so I'm currently working my way through one of them. And it is yum. And it has cinnamon on the top, so I guess I win all round.

Yesterday was a pretty awful day. I took the scooter to Uni, but en route, something punctured the can of v that was in my bag, and it leaked through absolutely everything. And v is worse than water, because it is sticky, and it smells so fruity. Luckily my ipod survived, but the pages of my diary are all stuck together, my pens and pencil are sticky, my new red wallet is just a little stained... BUT worst of all, my phone is fried. I was able to clean it out a little, and I managed to get it to turn on, but v just keeps leaking out of it. You wouldn't think that phones would be so sponge-like, but this appears to be. Everything seems to be fine, except the keys won't work; well, they sometimes spring into action, but they just type random numbers. My SIM card was salvagable though, so I put it into Jeremy's work phone; I'm contactable for the weekend at least. But I'm quite annoyed, because it was quite a flash phone, and I only got it in May! I shall have to start saving up for a new one.

I had my last class yesterday, and we all brought along food. I made some apricot slice, which everyone seemed to like - some people even had three or four pieces! I guess that is the best kind of feedback. Then after class, we all stood around still chatting, and organised a study/panic group meeting in a fortnight, which I am already looking forward to - I have no idea how to study for this (or the other!) paper. What should I do, read the whole Bible?! And everything that has rewritten the Bible? The lecturer basically intimated that we can write anything we like, so we should prepare a few essays in advance and memorise their main points. To me, that doesn't seem like an examination, it's more like a writing test, to get two more essays out of the student, whatever they can write down in three hours.

One last thing. I was browsing around Trade Me after winning an auction last night, and I came across this: http://www.trademe.co.nz/Antiques-collectables/Art-deco-retro/Fashion-beauty/auction-73289784.htm
The description made me laugh, very dry. And the seller's response to the buyer's question down the bottom of the page was similarly amusing. Although a little geographist.

reasons for this post:

1) Because I am bored, and procrastinating writing my (final) essay.
2) Because I love her poetry, and have really enjoyed rereading some of it this week
3) Jeremy has been very patient listening to my poetry readings, but I think he might be getting a little bored with being vilified because of his gender...
3) Because she is simply just so clever, and deserves to reach wider audiences. Hard to choose a favourite poem, but this one currently amuses. Watch this space.

****

Mrs Aesop

By Christ, he could bore for Purgatory. He was small,
didn't prepossess. So he tried to impress. Dead men,
Mrs Aesop, he’d say, tell no tales. Well, let me tell you now
that the bird in his hand shat on his sleeve,
never mind the two worth less in the bush. Tedious.

Going out was the worst. He’d stand at our gate, look, then leap;
scour the hedgerows for a shy mouse, the fields
for a sly fox, the sky for one particular swallow
that couldn’t make a summer. The jackdaw, according to him,
envied the eagle. Donkeys would, on the whole, prefer to be lions.

On one appalling evening stroll, we passed an old hare
snoozing in a ditch – he stopped and made a note –
and then, about a mile further on, a tortoise, somebody’s pet,
creeping, slow as marriage, up the road. Slow
but certain, Mrs Aesop, wins the race. Asshole.

What race? What sour grapes? What silk purse,
sow’s ear, dog in a manger, what big fish? Some days
I could barely keep awake as the story droned on
towards the moral of itself. Action, Mrs A., speaks louder
than words. And that’s another thing, the sex

was diabolical. I gave him a fable one night
about a little cock that wouldn’t crow, a razor-sharp axe
with a heart blacker than the pot that called the kettle.
I’ll cut off your tail, all right, I said, to save my face.
That shut him up. I laughed last, longest.


- Carol Ann Duffy

did pilate's wife do pilates?

Also, I want to post the poem I'm writing my next essay on. I'm also looking at another piece of literature in the essay (a rewriting of the story of Noah from a woman's perspective), but I'm much more interested in this work by Carol Ann Duffy, a British poet. Oh, there is so much I can write about this poem, both as a rewriting of a Biblical story, but also as a feminist rewriting, about giving a voice to women... I wish my lecturer was as excited about it as I am. I like Carol Ann Duffy. She is so clever.


***


Pilate's Wife

Firstly, his hands - a woman's. Softer than mine,
with pearly nails, like shells from Galilee.
Indolent hands. Camp hands that clapped for grapes.
Their pale, mothy touch made me flinch. Pontius.

I longed for Rome, home, someone else. When the Nazarene
entered Jerusalem, my maid and I crept out,
bored stiff, disguised, and joined the frenzied crowd.
I tripped, clutched the bridle of an ass, looked up

and there he was. His face? Ugly. Talented.
He looked at me. I mean he looked at me. My God.
His eyes were eyes to die for. Then he was gone,
his rough men shouldering a pathway to the gates.

The night before his trial, I dreamt of him.
His brown hands touched me. Then it hurt.
Then blood. I saw that each tough palm was skewered
by a nail. I woke up, sweating, sexual, terrified.

Leave him alone. I sent a warning note, then quickly dressed.
When I arrived, the Nazarene was crowned with thorns.
The crowd was baying for Barabbas. Pilate saw me,
looked away, then carefully turned up his sleeves

and slowly washed his useless, perfumed hands.
They seized the prophet then and dragged him out,
up to the Place of Skulls. My maid knows all the rest.
Was he God? Of course not. Pilate believed he was.

- Carol Ann Duffy

weekend report

On Friday, I handed in the report (Coleridge poem) I’ve been working on all semester, which translates to “spending four days furiously trying to patch together the pages of notes from all the research”. Added to a week of late nights (e.g. going to see Robert sing with the Boyband at 10pm on a Monday night… etc), meant I was exhausted by Friday afternoon, but still had the final proofreading to complete. Ended up that I needed to do a whole heap of proofreading, and I handed the report in at 4:15pm. I hadn’t eaten since an early breakfast with Jeremy and A.J., so I was feeling a bit dizzy. Managed to make it home on the scooter, ate a chocolate chip biscuit, had a shower (to scrub away that awful wrung-out completed-an-essay feeling I always get), then lay almost comatose on the couch until Jeremy came home. We had a pizza from the Mediterranean Food Warehouse, and I went to bed at 7:30pm. I woke up after an hour, and we decided to play a board game to keep me awake for a bit longer, so that I’d go (back) to bed around the normal time, and hopefully have a proper night’s sleep. So we ended up playing Ludo in bed, in our pyjamas. Not the best place to play, let it be noted – Ludo requires a rather solid and steady surface.

We had planned on sleeping in on Saturday, but of course we woke up at 7:30 (which is a sleep in really, the alarm usually goes off at 6:30), so we got up, ate breakfast, and Jeremy went to get a haircut for the air force band show he was doing that night. I had to get some books from the Uni library for my next essay (due this week), and then we went along to the Karori Festival, the main attraction of which was a “multicultural food fair” – read, two curry stands, a Malaysian food stand, hot dog stall, candy floss, gelato, fudge, and hot donuts. We shared a pakora, a samosa, and some curry, and then I had candy floss on a stick (only $1!!) and Jeremy had a hotdog. The cloud of candy floss was as big as my head, and as I neared the end it was basically all over my face and hands - just like old times at the Easter Show. Jeremy used my phone to take a picture of me with the floss; I’ll try and upload it somehow.
We took a walk in the afternoon, then after a quick dinner, Jeremy had to play at an NZDF ball. He managed to sneak home some nice orange juice for me, thank you NZ tax-payer! We have a plethora of things to drink at the moment, come to think of it; on a supermarket trip last week we saw that Coca Cola have re-released “Mello Yello” – what a trip back to nostalgia that was! It’s like Lift, only sweeter. That was a fun discovery. Anyway, while Jeremy was out on Saturday night, I made more toasted muesli, enough to fill two ice-cream containers actually! But it tastes great, and definitely fills you up in the mornings. And while I was busy making that, I was half-watching the interview with Terri Irwin - my gosh, it was sad. I even cried a little.

On Sunday morning we went to the vegetable markets next to Waitangi Park, and boy oh boy did we strike some good deals! I spied one stall selling ginger for $2.99/kilo, when all the other stalls around were offering it at $7.99/kilo! It was at a stall we usually bypass, because they are a bit more expensive than everyone else. (My theory is that it is because they have a marquee set up over the produce, so you are paying more for the convenience of not getting so wet). I managed to get a nice piece of ginger (e.g. not half-mouldy as most of it seemed to be, hence cheap price), and it cost 9 cents. At another stall, we found a mesclun lettuce mix for $1.99/kilo, which usually costs $19.99/kilo in the supermarket! (And lettuce weighs almost nothing - imagine how big a 1 kilo mesclun would be!) I’ve never seen such lettuce sold in such a way at the markets before, but I shall be looking out for it from now on. Other goodies include delicious braeburn apples, and some amazingly sweet NZ tomatoes, which have been featuring large in our salads since then. So a very cheap and rewarding trip. Afterwards, we ate bagels and read books in the sun on a patch of grass by the waterfront, because it had not only stopped raining, but the sun was out and there was hardly any wind. I even felt warm enough to take off all my jumpers down to my t-shirt, an amazing accomplishment for someone who routinely wears about five layers just to go to get the mail from the letterbox. Jeremy had a music practise so I went to Olive Café and drank an iced chocolate in the sun, reading a book, sitting next to a couple playing Scrabble. They had an interesting argument over whether “max” was allowed as a word – I agreed with the arguments of both sides, so didn’t feel qualified to offer my thoughts. A brief bit of shopping; Jeremy and I went home and did chores; we played Anti-Monopoly, a new game I bought off Trade Me, which is basically the same as Monopoly but you can play as either a Competitor or a Monopolist, and there are different sets of rules for each - quite fun, and makes you think too! Then Jeremy went out for dinner with his family, and I worked on my research proposal for my next essay.

So. Not a very wild weekend, but I enjoyed it. I like just 'hanging out' with Jeremy. He is my best friend. We talk about strange things. We like to quietly read books together. We like to play board games. Aren't those nice things to do with best friends?

I found the following passage in my old journal (still must get around to deleting that sometime...), and feel like it is relevant to the week I have had (see below for an update):

And just so you know.......
Just because I may look like an idle postgraduate student, wrapped up in a cardigan, dark circles around my eyes from thesis stress, library fines up to my eyeballs, a malnourished pallour, an addiction to caffiene that is completely unhealthy and probably life-shortening... that doesn't mean I'm not thinking about something deep....
I may be eating tamarillos in the sun on my back doorstep, BUT I'm actually considering the Modernist technique of "stream of consciousness" writing, and how it can possibly unite both narrative structure and characterisation, yet still be aligned with the Modernist principles of fragmentation and meaninglessness......
I may be washing the bathroom floor, BUT I'm actually thinking about how to give an incisive reading of the textuality in the later works of Virginia Woolf......
I may be hanging out the washing, BUT I'm trying to combine a theory that 'long coats' are emblems of danger in children's novels, with a concept of the wider implications villains' appearances and the subsequent reflections of disturbed personalities, without going over my 2000 word limit...


As for this week?
It may look like I'm watching "Dr Phil", BUT I'm actually considering the complicated textual history of an obscure Coleridge poem, and wondering how to combine all the critical material into approximately 600 words....
It may look like I'm baking lemon syrup cake, BUT I'm actually mentally planning an essay on a Carol Ann Duffy poem about Pontius Pilate's wife, and how I can relate this to a feminist reading of the King James Bible....
It may look like I'm sitting by the window waiting for the postie to bring me a letter (or a bill, even - I'll take anything), BUT really, I'm thinking about the seminal article that C.S. Lewis wrote on the influence of the KJB on English Language, and how I can work something clever about it into an essay....
It may look like I'm checking my e-mail a couple of times a day in the hope that someone has written to me about anything other than ordering Viagra pills or 'get rich quick' schemes, BUT actually... no, I'm just checking my e-mail a couple of times a day, in the hope that someone has written to me.

oops

This morning was pretty good. Jeremy went off to work on the scooter, and I decided to watch Good Morning while I ate breakfast (I made toasted muesli last week, which is super-easy and very yum, and means I get to put in the exact ingredients I enjoy eating in my muesli). This morning, the presenters were interviewing The Edge's "Boy Band", a manufactured pop-group with the express aim of trying to get a song to number one on the New Zealand charts. One of the members, "Gay Boy", is Jeremy's long-time friend Robert. I was impressed with his singing and dancing on the show this morning; Jeremy tells me that Rob has been in lots of productions and I can see why - he is very talented.

But even better than experiencing third-degree fame at 9am, was my walk to the busstop. It had been raining lightly all morning, in fact it still is now, which is the perfect condition for all sorts of animals; notably, snails. I really quite like snails, and remember being upset when my parents would put "Blitzem" on the garden to kill the wee things and save the plants.
Anyway, childhood pain aside, my morning was made infinitely worth waking up for, as I spotted a total of five snails on my walk to the shops. Their shells ranged from about 2cm in diameter to about 5cm; no giant land snails in Lyall Bay that I know of. Of course, each meeting necessitated a close encounter and examination, which meant that I was almost late for the bus. I should leave earlier next rainy morning.

For your information, here is a diagram of a snail:

There is a nicely detailed diagram here:

http://www.somers.k12.ny.us/SIS/MAIN/sis/research/gr.3research/snails/anatomy%20of%20a%20snail.jpg

And here is a funny snail anecdote. When I was living in Aro Valley, my house was on the hill and a good hike up various sets of stairs. One day, upon reaching the top of one set of stairs and before embarking on the next, Jeremy and I discovered a snail trying to make its way across the path. It was in full view of any passing birds or cats, so I decided to move it out of harm's way. However, as I set the snail down near a bush in some shade, I accidentally bumped it, and it rolled about 3m down the hill, straight into a storm-water drain. Oops.

***

Today in Romantic Lit. class, we were discussing Coleridge's "Christabel", and one of the members of my class starting talking about a certain passage. These few lines apparently reminded them of "Courtney Love", which surprised me, as I could not envisage Coleridge in a grunge band, nor Ms Love reworking "Christabel" into a rock song. However, after several people had agreed with this person, my brain started to actually listen attentively, and I realised that they were actually talking about "courtly love". I'm glad I didn't offer my thoughts of the distinctive intertextuality between epic ballad poems and California rock bands.